


What I Can Give

by thalia_muse_of_comedy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Related, Gray-Asexuality, M/M, Third Year Hinata Shouyou and Kageyama Tobio, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:28:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27847726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalia_muse_of_comedy/pseuds/thalia_muse_of_comedy
Summary: “how much do you trust me? On a scale from one to ten?"“Probably a seven.”Hinata wrinkles his nose. “Do you think you could bump that up to at least an 8.5?”
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 19
Kudos: 146





	What I Can Give

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maevethell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maevethell/gifts).



> This fic is the product of talking to Maeve about grey-aro/ace Kageyama yesterday, and it stayed in my head all night until I wrote it out. It's short and weird, but I hope you can enjoy it! I had Swimming in the Moonlight by Bad Suns on repeat while writing this one.
> 
> please bug me at pinchserveprince on Tumblr or pinchserve12 on twitter. if you like the fic, please kudos and/or comment, it really makes my lonely days better!

Hinata’s been acting weird all day. Every time Kageyama pauses during his serving practice, their eyes meet across the gym. Right now, Hinata’s practicing receives with a first year. He bumps the ball and drifts his eyes to Kageyama’s. In the millisecond, he feels picked apart by that steady gaze. 

The practice wraps up with a word from Yamaguchi, and the first and second years begin breaking down the nets. When they bring out the dry mops, Kageyama and Hinata head up to the club room while Yamaguchi and Tsukishima stay to talk with Ukai. 

What starts as a calm walk to the club room steadily dissolves into trying to subtly outpace each other. Kageyama feels like they can’t decide between making it an official race for their never-ending tallying or not. The toes of their shoes smack into the door at the same time. Neither of them try to declare the victory, too tired to start a screaming match. Hinata throws the door open and turns on the light. It’s brighter than the autumn night unfurling outside. 

Kageyama changes his clothes quickly, hating the chill already starting to threaten his skin. When he’s finished, he sits at the table with his volleyball journal. He knows that Hinata takes his time after practice, getting lost in his head every three seconds.

“My mom recorded the Raijin’s game from last night,” Hinata says after he slides into his hoodie. The curl of his hair has peaks like whipped cream. He pulls out his cell phone to check his messages and sits next to Kageyama with a carefully measured five centimeters of distance. It was the closest Hinata could be without Kageyama short circuiting, and Hinata knew that.

He watches Hinata text someone, probably Kozume, out of the corner of his eye as he continues to write about practice. Kageyama tries not to think about the text messages he and Hinata have been exchanging over the past few months. Recently, he’s found it easier to talk like that. He’s able to carefully measure his words with precision, leaving no space for being vague. He can take as much time as he wants to sit with his responses and Hinata alternates between gushing and prying Kageyama apart. 

One night during summer vacation, Hinata had texted him,  _ I like you _ , with no fluff or preamble. When he had read it, Kageyama’s heart had climbed out of his chest. His initial reaction had been to type back a rejection as fast and as kind as he could manage, but something had stilled his hands. Simply saying he didn’t feel the same way wouldn’t encompass the feeling in the pit of his chest.

_ I don’t know if I can feel the same way, _ he had typed instead, using the screen as a crutch for vulnerability. 

The next time they had seen each other for practice, Hinata had launched himself at Kageyama in his customary “is this a tackle or is this a hug” greeting begging for a lot of tosses that day. The familiarity had been the greatest gift Kageyama had ever received.

“If your bumps don’t suck, dumbass.”

Since then, Hinata has been watching Kageyama, testing the waters of their friendship. Now, Kageyama feels like there is no one in the world he is closer to. He wonders if he will ever connect with someone like this ever again. There’s a fear that claws into his chest as he looks down the road at the rest of his life. All he can see is volleyball and Hinata, who stands beside him, across the net from him in his dreams. 

He’s told Hinata, through text in his moments of weakness, that he's scared that he’ll never feel anything for anyone beyond this. He feels like he’s hit the top of his capacity.

Sitting next to Hinata in the club room, he wonders: what would it mean to  _ like _ Hinata? How would that be different from what he feels right now? And how is that different from four months ago? He thinks about what it would mean to close the five centimeter gap between them. Is that something he wants? Is it something he can even cope with?

Lost like this in his head, he barely hears Hinata put down his phone and ask, “how much do you trust me?”

Kageyama finally gives Hinata his full attention instead of pretending to write. His eyes are sharp like they get on the court; he’s just as still, too. The five centimeter gap remains undisturbed.

“On a scale from one to ten,” he adds.

Tilting his head, Kageyama considers the question. “Probably a seven.” 

Hinata wrinkles his nose. “Do you think you could bump that up to at least an 8.5?”

“Why?” Something about the air feels tense. The anticipation is uncomfortable like the drop into an ice bath. 

“Give me your hand” is all Hinata says in response. 

Kageyama hesitates, scared of the Hinata who’s in love with him. This Hinata feels different from his partner on the court and more like the boy he’s been texting his heart out.

Hinata slides closer, the gap narrowing to three centimeters. He puts out his hand palm up and promises, “I’m never going to do something you don’t want me to.”

Kageyama wants to ask Hinata how he can know what Kageyama wants or doesn’t want, but he knows Hinata’s sharp eyes see all. He knows that Hinata has committed every conversation to memory, just like Kageyama has.

He puts his hand into Hinata’s waiting palm.

Hinata wraps his fingers around Kageyama’s hand and flips it over. With his other hand, he traces the lines on Kageyama’s palm. All the oxygen leaves Kageyama’s lungs, but Hinata is right: it’s not something he doesn’t want. 

When Hinata starts gliding his index finger over the rise and fall of the outlines of Kageyama’s fingers, he says, “Your fingers are the first thing I loved about you. They’re so strong and beautiful. I like the way you take care of them.”

Kageyama could say nothing in response, his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth.

He had been wrong about the ice bath. This feels like the time he went to the beach and climbed up the rocks jutting out from the waves. It had torn up his feet as he stood at the top, and he had struggled to find the courage to jump. He had been scared of the weightlessness and the awaiting embrace of the ocean. 

The hand not holding Kageyama prisoner begins to travel up his arm, making him shiver. Still, like he had been promised, he welcomes the contact. The fingers slide to his upper arm and pause there. 

Hinata sighs and lets go of Kageyama’s hand. He turns his body so he’s completely facing him. All Kageyama can give him is to turn his head toward Hinata. It seems like it’s enough.

Again Hinata says, “I’m never going to do something you don’t want me to, and you can always tell me to stop. Tell me to stop, okay?” 

All Kageyama can do is nod. The painfully bright fluorescent lights of the club room make Hinata’s hair look like it’s on fire. Kageyama imagines the embers rising from it as Hinata leans up, destroying the distance between them. 

He brings his lips to the top of Kageyama’s head. The pressure is light and so warm that Kageyama never wants it to leave. Hinata lifts his lips and whispers into Kageyama’s hair, “I love the way your hair melts into the darkness. The way it seems like it’s immovable, like it can’t be messed up.”

When he pulls away a little, and from this close, Kageyama can see the faint blush painted across Hinata’s face. Kageyama nearly passes out when lips meet his cheek. They are soft where they meet his skin. It’s a sensation he had never known he could enjoy. He hadn’t known he was craving this contact until it gifted itself to him.

Hinata pulls away again, brushing Kageyama’s bangs out of the way. He plants his lips there next, a benediction. He moves to Kageyama’s other cheek, repeating the kiss from earlier. 

When Hinata sits back down, the three centimeter gap restored, Kageyama begins to come back online. He already misses the feeling of Hinata’s skin against his own. 

Now, Hinata looks a little lost, like he hadn’t thought he would get this far. His eyes are downcast, and his fingers knot into the fabric of his school uniform pants. He’s thinking, the lines of his mouth a wave with every word he lands on and discards. 

He lifts his head and tells Kageyama, “I like you the way you are, so don’t worry about what you can give me or what you can be to me. Just keep letting me be what I can be… to you. That’s all.” 

Stunned as he is, Kageyama manages to nod. The gap becomes four centimeters, then five, and Hinata stands up. He grabs his bag, leaving Kageyama unmoving on the floor. He tells Kageyama goodnight as he walks out the club room.

As the door swings closed, covering Hinata’s retreating back, Kageyama finds himself standing before the ocean. The anticipation tears him up from the inside. He's still very afraid of the impact.

In spite of his fear, he jumps.

Kageyama slams his journal shut and frantically searches for his own school bag. He nearly slides down the stairs as he runs to catch Hinata. He knows the route he takes on his bike, but he’s unsure if he’ll be able to catch up. 

He turns the corner and sees Hinata growing smaller in the distance. Squashing the embarrassment down, he calls out his name. 

From his spot on the street, he hears the brakes squeak. Hinata turns his head to look at Kageyama. Seeing him, he swings off his bike and starts walking toward him. They meet somewhere in the middle.

Before he can overthink and worry about false hope, Kageyama wraps his arms around Hinata. He grips his best friend so hard he feels like he’ll break them both. Hinata’s arms stay by his side. 

Unsure, Kageyama asks, “is this enough?” Please let it be enough, it’s all he can give.

Hinata’s arms finally return the embrace. He burrows his face into Kageyama’s chest and breathes in. 

“It’s perfect.”

  
  



End file.
